


White Lies

by twentyfourphan



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Dan Howell - Freeform, Depression, Fluff, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phanfiction, Phil Lester - Freeform, Sad, Suicide, phanfic, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 15:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15561276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twentyfourphan/pseuds/twentyfourphan
Summary: Dan Howell was nothing but a shushed rumor at school, nothing but the main character in speculations and the nameless example of the suicide prevention day.His story was known by everyone but Phil Lester, the newcomer who desired to know everything -until he met Dan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: mentions suicide, depression, homophobia, abuse and other possible triggers.
> 
> authors note: i'm not a native english speaker btw so please excuse my mistakes.

  He was sitting on one of the yellow benches that were placed randomly on the schoolyard - and the sky was above. Not grey, not indicating the heavy storm that lingered in the cold air, but clouded. Swarmed with wispy curls of white and not so white. They still reminded him of the white lie his dad once told him, when he was crying over the lack of sunshine in London. "The clouds keep you warm when the sun can't, when you're too cold and turn up the heat in your room, the clouds leave through the chimney to tell the sun to be warmer the next day" and Phil couldn't understand how there were clouds in the summer then and his dad didn't either. 

Next to him were Pj and Chris, as usual, friends that he had made throughout the past couple of weeks.

They were listening to the _bullshit_ that was going around about girls being sluts because of guys being players. About teachers being assholes because of students being juvenile.

It was an usual Thurday that had just begun and Phil was already tired of hearing all these rumors, he always was. Rumors weren't just white lies, they weren't even the lies themselves. It was the second after, when the person you just talked about turns to you, flashing you a smile and you return it. 

Everything felt so tense, like there was always someone listening to what you did and what you didn't do and maybe there actually was. Pretending to care, flashing smiles and making you believe that clouds are made of smoke. 

His eyes wandered over to Pj, who was sitting there with closed eyes and furrowed brows in concentration. Would he ever betray his friends? Would he talk about them behind their back?

"Why are we still sitting here, listening to that rubbish?" Phil asked his more or less rhetorical question, like he did at least twice a week.

Pj opened his eyes, tilting his head "Because were not a part of it"

"And that makes it any better?" Phil thought he would never fathom the idea of pretending.

"No and yes. I mean we're not spreading it around or something, we're just making sure that we're not the ones they talk about."

Phil knew that that wasn't the truth, it never was. Pj didn't care about what others thought of him, he proved that many times. He'd proven it when Phil saw him punching a random student in the hallway because he _felt like doing it_. Pj proved it when he left the lessons whenever he wanted and the teachers never questioned it. 

The whole world seemed to know that Pj Liguori didn't care about the opinions others had of him and not once did his name occur in what others said, none of their names ever did. So why would they wait for that sudden day?

Phil chuckled to himself about his thoughts. For a stranger that description could've been interpreted wrong. Pj and Chris weren't bullies. They weren't school skipping "bad boys", punching and smoking who and whatever they got hold of. They were quite the opposite, they were playstation playing nerds with a bunch of bad jokes and a handful of friends. Caring about stuff they didn't care about, _pretending_. 

Besides all of that they were good friends, maybe best friends even, rambling about useless nerd stuff unless a certain thing came up. A thing they actually never talked about. A thing that made them share a glare. A thing Phil wasn't a part of.

"Let's go" Chris said, elbowing Pjs side.

"Wait," the curly haired one stared at a blond girl rushing over to another girl, excitement flickering in her eyes.

"You won't believe who's back" she said just meters away from their bench. Within a second Pj stood next to them, making Chris stand up as well, leaving Phil once again in confusion.

"Who?" he asked, his chest rising up and down a little too fast.

"Elias Acker, why do you care Pj?" the blond said, rolling her pretty blue eyes at him.

"Nevermind" Chris mumbled, dragging the slightly taller boy by his grey jumper back to the bench.  
"What was that about?" Phil asked, pushing a loose strain of his raven black hair upwards.  
"I thought it was about-" he stopped himself, sharing a cautious glare with Chris "us."

"Nonsense!" Phil declared, pushing himself up from the bench, standing taller than both of the boys. 

He was upset, maybe just frustrated, on the edge of throwing some child like tantrum. He wasn't the kind of person that easily got in rage, but this one had built up over the past weeks.  
He didn't feel like a part of the group, he felt left out on something so important, that it occupied his friends mind on a daily basis and he truly was.

He didn't know and he couldn't assume what he didn't know. Sometimes there were glimpses of truth, slipping words and overheard conversations when they thought he didn't pay attention. About texting and visiting and incidents and Phil begged them once again to let him in on that so ostensibly dirty secret.

"What is it you're not telling me about?"

"Nothing Phil" Pj said calmly, not giving Chris the chance to spit back and cause a heated discussion on the schoolyard.

"Do you guys really think I wouldn't know the real reason why we're always listening to the current rumors?" he didn't. 

Being left out was Phils misfortune, he always thought. There was always something to know, thick lies he hadn't seen through yet and false smiles he couldn't tell apart from genuine ones. He didn't want them to think that he was undependable, when he kept others secrets so dearly. 

And Pj and Chris knew that. Even if there were still so many unspoken words between them, they could at least tell the loathing he had for lies. But their lips were sealed by promises they made to themselves and a not so dirty secret. 

So Phil didn't wait for an answer and just brushed past them, bumping Chris shoulder. Phil wasn't mad at them, he never could be, but whenever that thing came up, Phil just didn't feel like staying with them. It was their thing, their shared glare, their guilt. 

While walking, Phil kept his head low, not because he metaphorically didn't have to face all these white lies - just as a mannerism. He thought about Pj and Chris and if he'd ever see through the muddle they created in his mind, when he bumped into someone.

"Oh sorry" he blurted, looking up. But the girl he had walked in didn't even notice, standing with her back to him. It was when Phil eventually saw the group of people, eyes wide and jaws ajar. He was taller than most of them so he could easily see the cause of their huddle.

A boy.

  
"Could you fuck off?" the tall, but slouching boy yelled. Phil felt immediate pity for the stranger, even though he couldn't really tell why everyone was staring at him.

Maybe that was Elias, the guy that blond girl had talked about. Maybe he was bullied, took a time off and was back now. Phil couldn't tell, he assumed way too much without knowing anything, once again. He could only see to the brown haired ones shoulders, covered by a black jumper.

But the name that occurred in the peoples whispers wasn't Elias, it was Dan or Daniel Howell. Two names he had only heard separately before.  
"Fuck" someone gushed nearby Phils ear.

He turned his head and met the light blue eyes of Pj, full of panic and desperation.

It was when Phil realized that they weren't listening to the people's rumors everyday, because they wanted to make sure they weren't about them.  
They wanted to make sure they weren't about _him_.

 

Phil was now staring at the brown haired boy more intense than any of the other people. He could see his face, see the anxiety written in his eyes. He almost stopped eyeing him, just out of politeness, but then he spotted the crutch the boy was holding onto with shaky fingers.

The stranger was limping across the schoolyard towards the building, as if it was the hardest thing he'd ever done.  
Phil had the urge to support him, a light sting in his heart splattered with pity, even though he had never even talked to him.  
He had the urge to protect him from the stares, even if he was staring himself.

Phil sometimes just cared too much about others. His mother always told him that it was rude to be so curious about other peoples lives.

But Phil wasn't curious, he just had a heart.

He knew that it wasn't always good to assume others problems, to offer help when it wasn't obvious if they needed it. He just thought it was kind in a world like this.  
A world in which everyone is talking about everyone, but only caring about themselves.

Phil might have cared too much about others, but at least he never pretended it.

"Who is he?" he asked Chris, not taking his eyes off the brown haired boy, but the shortest of the three didn't answer. Maybe he didn't hear Phil, maybe he didn't want to hear him.  
"He's the one you always talk about right?" And Phil did it again, making assumptions that he had no proof for.  
"No he's not" Chris yelled in a whisper, annoyed by Phils desire to know everything.

He grabbed the paralyzed looking Pj by his arm and pulled him out of the crowd. Their conversation was indistinct and Phil felt it once again. Felt the insecurity growing in his mind.  
He tugged on the collar of his blue denim jacket, which he wore as often as he could because it was his favorite and hesitantly walked towards the stranger, who was still anxiously limping through the huddle of people.

"Hey."

It was unsure and careful. The boy stopped, who's name was presumably Daniel, and looked up. His eyes were brown, like his hair and the first word that came to Phils mind was _pretty_.  
Because Daniel Howell was pretty.

"What?" the intended harshness was vague behind the scepticism and fear in Dans voice, while his eyes wandered up and down Phils face, trying to remember whether he knew him or not.

Was he a bully? Was he a friend? Was he some sort of teacher? Dan shook his head without moving, he didn't know the mellow face he was looking at.

"Can I help you somehow?"

Phils voice was soft, soft as the color of his eyes, the color of the sky. But not todays sky, not the skies before. 

"No" Dan spat, a little surprised by his own tone. But pity always laid behind friendly offers and soft, soft eyes. 

He had to face it way to often, even though he hadn't left his house for months now, besides going to the hospital.

He saw the pity in his parents, the doctors and nurses eyes. Every family member that had visited him had the exact same expression on their face. They all kept the same distance to him, a distance that caused a sore pain in Dans chest.  
Dan knew pity and he could see it even behind layers and layers of pretended generosity.

"Did you have some sort of accident?" Phil asked, noticing how private that question was a little too late. He was assuming again.

It didn't wonder him why Pj and Chris never told him anything. He always asked too many questions without knowing where the line was he shouldn't cross. But once again he crossed that line so easily.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked" he added when the brown haired boys eyes widened.

But Dans reaction wasn't caused by Phils inappropriate curiosity or the invasion of Dans personal space with that question. Nobody had ever asked him what had happened, most people even knew before he did himself.

"You do-don't know?" he perplexed, trying to look through Phils nervous expression. Trying to figure out if he was just messing with him.

He had to know, everybody did. The whole school was staring at Dan, everyone in their little town knew where he had spent the last year. 

But Dan didn't know that the people had stopped talking about him months ago.

That's what people do. They're interested in everything new until it isn't anymore. They talk about it until everyone knows and then they either forget about it or keep it quiet.

Dan was kept quiet.

"No I don't" Phil said confused, running his fingers through his pitch black hair. Wasn't that the point of the little argument he had with Pj that morning? That everyone knew but him?

That he was left out when it came to the specific topic, that now had a name.

"Oh" was the only thing that left Dans lips. Oh, like nobody actually bothered to tell that slightly shorter boy.

"I'm Phil by the way" a lopsided smile, full of doubt and certainty at the same time, curved his lips 

Dan was tempted to make some kind of nervous gesture, but his hands were so useless. So he just kept looking into Phils blue eyes until he could bring his lips to move.

"Dan."


	2. Chapter 2

"Why the fuck did you talk to him?" was the first thing Phil heard, when he entered the classroom full of students talking about Dans return.

It was warm and lacking fresh air to breathe. And Phil could've used a lot of that right now. He was still overwhelmed by the sudden reveal of Pj and Chris' so dearly kept secret and the confusion that came within. 

The secret, called Dan, had a different lesson and had to go into the different direction though, so Phil couldn't get to know anything more than his name then. Not even why everyone eyed him like he just fell out of the clouds.

"Phil!" Chris poked the tall ones shoulder, trying to get answers.

"Why weren't you? You clearly know him" Phil said lazily, sick of the things Pj and Chris hadn't told him.

"Yeah we do, but you don't" Chris snapped, but there was no actual anger in his voice, desperation maybe.

He did that all the time. Faking something, just so nobody knew what his real opinions or feelings were. Phil didn't understand why he did that. It was so obvious to everyone, why wasn't he just real in first place? Pj and Phil would never judge him for being sure of himself, they both could easily tell when he was lying. He looked to his right, his lips twitched, like the truth was trying to break out. 

"Tell me why you two always talk about him, what did he do?" Phil asked urgently.

"We didn't talk about him" Chris lied once again, like they had ever since, so Phil turned to Pj. He usually gave in a little quicker.

"Yeah we did talk about Dan, what - um - did he say anything to you?" Pjs curly hair was a lot messier than just minutes ago, he probably ran his fingers through it a little too often. He seemed so stressed, something Phil wasn't used to. Pj was such a calm and content person, no bursts of anger, unless it came to Dan.

Phil still hadn't fully realized that all those hushed words and tales had revolved around that one pretty boy.  

"No, what should he say to me?" he didn't even try to suppress the curiosity in his words, he wanted to know.

Pj bit his lip, avoiding Phils blue eyes, slowly turning around and walking away, but Phil stopped him by grabbing his shoulder.

"What is the fucking deal with him?" Phil asked, almost furiously. He couldn't bear it when he was the one everybody kept secrets from. When he was the only one that didn't know. 

His mother used to do that. She used to talk with his father and older brother about stuff that Phil "didn't need to know". Stuff they kept so far away from him, that he didn't even have a clue about what was going on. Hushed conversations that always stopped when he entered the room. Excuses hiding the truth that he wasn't allowed to hear and white lies.

Phil had felt like a stranger in a house full of people that had raised him.  

Pj freed himself from Phils grip and stepped back, first looking at Chris, then just at some spot on the wall, thinking.

"He had an accident some months ago and now he's back, end of the story" Chris chimed in. Phils eyes switched between the two brown haired boys he called his friends. Did they keep more than Dan as a secret from him?

"An accident?" 

"Car accident, but you shouldn't talk with him about that or don't even talk to him at all" Chris expression was blank, his words monotone. He had his feelings under control like a hypnotist ones mind.

"Why?" Phil asked. _Don't tell me what to do_ , pounding in his mind

"He's weird, you know, that's why everyone was staring at him."

"I'm weird as well" Phil chuckled, trying breath in the lack of air that was filled with _lies, lies, lies_.

Pj smiled at him, his blue eyes finally locking with Phils.

"Oh hell yeah you are Philip Lester, but just do yourself a favor and stay away from him" his voice was soft like he was saving Phil from doing something stupid.

Something stupid called Daniel James Howell.

And Phil would've trusted the boys words, if the softness hadn't reminded him of the tone his mother had spoken in when she told him that everything was alright.

* * *

 For some reason, Dan didn't show up for lunch. Phil hadn't seen him for the rest of the day either, so he assumed that he must've gone home after the first period.

It wasn't surprising for Phil at all, if people would stare at him like they did at Dan, he would've done the same.

He knew the feeling quite well, when everyone had his name on their lips and even though the talking about him had mostly stopped over the two years, he still had felt pitiful looks on him whenever he'd walked through the hallways of his former school.

It wasn't the reason they moved though, his mother found a new job and his older brother applied for a college near their new hometown, but Phil couldn't deny that he was somehow happy to get away from his old life.

 

"Do we meet up on thursday?" Phil asked Pj and Chris while they were going to Pjs car after the last period ended.

They didn't talk about the mornings event any further and just tried to ignore the tension between the three of them, _for the best_. 

"Yeah probably" the curly haired one said, opening the door to the black car, which Phil didn't know the brand of.

"At yours again?" Chris asked, throwing himself onto the passenger seat, looking at Phil, who sat in the back. "Don't know really, my mums a little pissed because of the Spanish exam."

"Uh, right, my parents are throwing some kind of dinner party that evening and I need to be there, maybe another day" Pj said, starting the car with a loud thud and pulling out of the schools parking lot.

For some Pjs answer would’ve sounded like a bad excuse, but Pjs parent were the definition of good neighbors. With a perfect house, perfect children and - perfect gatherings.

They didn't even consider going to Chris', his dad didn't really like visitors and maybe not even his son that much. As far as Phil knew, Chris dad was easily angered, to say the least.

One time they were at his, his father argued with Chris for an hour about literally noting. Pj had told Phil that they got into fights almost every day, but it wasn't bad. Phil had tried to stop himself from assuming things, but the time Chris missed school for some days to come back with a faded bruised eye, he doubted the intensity of their arguments.

He didn't know if Pj was just telling white lies to keep his best friends secrets, but it seemed to be a thing he did a lot. 

The car had slowed to halt outside an average house, in a regular neighborhood with loads of the same houses with similar softs blue fronts. 

"I'll just ask my mum, maybe she'll allow it" the black haired one said, grabbing his backpack and opening the car door.

"Yeah do that, see you tomorrow" Pj said. "Bye."

Phil stepped out of the black car, giving Chris and Pj a little wave and then walking towards the house he still didn't really feel settled in.

 It was hard for him to leave the house he had grown up in behind. Even though everything reminded him of his father, who wasn't sitting on the blue couch anymore, he missed it a lot. He missed sitting on the grass on which his dad had tried to convince him to play football almost everyday. He missed entering the home office and getting the 'I'm busy' look. Phil basically just missed his father. He always had the feeling of him coming upstairs into his room, something that was already impossible back then, but it seemed even more unlike to happen now that they lived in a house his father had never entered. 

"I'm home" he yelled when he opened the front door, hanging up his jacket and putting off his shoes. His mother was probably at work, like she was everyday until 5pm, but his brother Martyn must've been home at least. 

He picked up the stack of letters on the floor and flicked through them, searching for anything remotely interesting. 

"Philip, still no party invites?" the blond, slightly ginger boy greeted. Phil rolled his eyes, annoyed by hearing his full name and Martyns sarcasm.

"Still nothing from college?" the black haired one snapped back.

"Fuck off."

Phil chuckled to himself, watching his slightly shorter, but two years older brother snatch the letters out of his hand.

Phil walked over to the spiral staircase and headed downstairs to his room, which was a remade basement and let his bag back slid from his shoulders onto the wooden floor.

He wasn't really hungry or in the mood to play video games, so he just collapsed on the brown leather sofa and stared at the pictures on the yellow painted wall.

Photos of his family, former friends and him, friends that hadn't texted him since a month. It didn't wonder him though, he always was the third wheel in a group. He was the friend they called when the other had plans, the friend that walked next to the others not really being part of the conversation. Phil didn't really know if it was his fault, if he was just too unapparent or just not "bestfriend material".

He liked to play it down by saying that it was his fate to be the left out one, the one that just never was the number one for anyone, but it hurt him.

Even though it was somehow different with Pj and Chris, he always felt like they were just hanging out with him because they pitied him.

They were good friends, texting, talking to him and trying to involve him in everything they did, but just today, after three months, he got to know their secret. A secret which was a boy called Dan and even though Phil finally knew, he still had no idea why they had kept it hidden from him.

Dan was just a pretty boy, wasn't he?

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um i just realized that the second part of this chapter was wrong so i replaced it with the right one

Phil walked towards the two boys, that were sitting once again on one of the yellow benches, listening to the other peoples rumors. 

It was a quite warm day for late April, but Phil still wore a sweater. He ran out of not too weird button ups, not too nerdy shirts and the denim jacket he wore yesterday was laying on the laundry pile in his room. So he chose a grey sweater and black skinny jeans, which he had like ten pairs of. 

"Hey" he greeted them tiredly, running his fingers through his messy quiff.

"Hey did you ask your mum?" Pj asked putting on the glasses he never wore. "Yeah she said yes, no contacts today?" Phil sneered, not actually laughing about Pjs appearance, the glasses suited him, he just always refused to wear them at all costs.

"Yeah, and unfortunately I forgot to ask you if you could bring me a pair."

"Oh I have backups" the tallest one said, already unzipping his backpack.

"No no no" Chris chimed in "please wear glasses today."

Phil turned to Chris, just then noticing the bruised jaw and the sore corner of his friends lips. Pity filled Phils mind, the urge of hugging him spread through his body, knowing what Chris had to go through the evening before. 

Not by experience, but by assumption, as always.

He probably begged Pj to wear glasses, so he wasn't the focal point of the group.

"Yeah I think I'll stick with the glasses for one day, I mean this beauty should be presented at least once" Pj smirked ironically and shook his head.  

Phils gaze wandered, eyeing the people around him, until he caught the sight of Daniel Howell, limping towards the schools entrance. 

There were less eyes on him that day, but his were glued onto the ground.

Phil knew what it felt like when everyone was aware of your personal life and even talked about it.The time he had to go through that himself, he had felt lonelier than ever.

So many people lay their eyes on you, but no one to hold the gaze. 

So many people with your name on their lips, but no one to speak to.

Phil decided quickly that he didn't want Dan to feel like that, he didn't really know the boy with the fringe, but something told him that he should.

"I'll go over to Dan, okay?" he asked, even though he didn't need his friends approval, which he definitely wouldn't get.

"Why? I thought we'd talked about that" Chris sounded like his mother and it annoyed the black haired boy enormously. 

"Because he's lonely and nobody seems to care about that."

Pj looked at him weirdly, almost sad.

"But you don't know him, I don't think that he wants the company of a stranger" Chris said, but Phil kept eye contact with Pj instead. Doubting more and more that they had told him the full truth. 

"You should go" Pj mumbled lowering his head and avoiding the aghast glare of Chris.

"Yeah, we'll see us later" Phil said quickly turning around and walking towards the school entrance, which Dan still hadn't reached.

"Hey" Phil greeted him with a soft smile on his lips, trying to look genuine.

Dan looked up, his fringe covering his left eye. He wore a black sweater with black jeans.

"Oh, hey" he said seemingly surprised about talking to Phil a second time.

A light smile tugged on his lips as well, but it was less real than Phils, he could tell, his mum had the same one almost everyday. 

"Did you go home yesterday?" he asked.

"Yeah, walking was exhausting" Dan answered a little annoyed by himself and his disability to walk like everyone else could.

"That's shit I guess, but it won't last forever" his eyes casted to the crutch Dan held onto. 

Dan nodded, looking at the ground, his lips in a straight line. Phil stopped smiling as well, trying to figure out what was going on in the others mind.

"Who are you friends with?" the black haired one asked, breaking the silence that was about to swallow them both.

"Not really anyone, as you can see" Dan faltered, trying to cover up the sadness in his voice with a joke. "Y-you?" he quickly added when he saw that the older one didn't laugh about it.

"Chris and Pj, don't know if you know them" Phil answered, looking back at the yellow bench, where the two weren't sitting anymore. There weren't many students left on the schoolyard besides the two boys by now. 

"I do, somehow" Dan mumbled, the words tugging on his heart. 

"We should go inside" Phil said, overhearing Dans answer and wondering why they hadn't heard the bell. "What do you have first?" he asked while holding the glass door open for Dan, who slowly limped inside.

"History" he declared, his tone everything but delighted.

"Oh me too, well you can sit with Pj and me" Phil said relieved about the possibility that he could talk with someone during history, which was one of the most boring subjects, he thought.

Pj didn't talk much during lessons, he was way too focused on listening and making notes, however he managed to do that without falling asleep.

Dan didn't respond though and just walked next to Phil, trying to keep up with his pace. Which was rather difficult, his right leg was almost unmovable and he just kinda dragged it with him like a useless weight.

Sometimes he wished that they would've just amputated it, but his doctor kept saying that he'd be able to gain the control back if he just kept going. 

But Dan didn't want to keep fighting for something that he decided to give up on a long time ago.

They entered the classroom as the last ones, but Mrs Kelly didn't complain about that, maybe because of Dan. 

A genuine and reassuring smile spread across her crinkled face, which the brown haired returned less truthfully. Phil watched the scenario for a second, then turned towards Pj, who was sitting there with his head propped up on one elbow, not looking up. 

"There's an empty seat next to me if you want to -" Phil began, but Dan already limped towards a lonely table in the furthest corner of the room.

Phil swallowed heavily, feeling the insecurity build up in his chest and questions in his mind. But he thought that it would've been wrong to follow and ask him at that very moment, when Dan obviously wanted to sit on his own.

So he just sat down next to Pj, who now lifted his head so he could meet Phils slightly darker blue eyes.

But all he could see was the back of Phils head, covered in raven black hair, while Phil could only see the lonely brown eyes of Daniel James Howell.

* * *

 "Dan! Wait a second" Phil quickly stood up, grabbing his bag and tried not to fall over, which he did a lot, considering his clumsiness and rushed after Dan.

The last two hours were almost unbearable for the black haired boy.

Pj was focused on what the teacher had to say and the tasks they were supposed to do, while Phil just kept turning around to look at Dan, who didn't look up once. Phils mind was filled with questions and he found himself in a spiral of assumptions. 

Dan had already left the classroom, butit was so easy for Phil to keep up with him, considering that the slightly taller boy was limping.

Dan realized that as well, sighed and stopped, waiting for Phil to stand in front of him, because he couldn't turn around that easily.

"Why didn't you want to sit with me?" the black haired one frowned, looking for the actual reason and not the ones he had made up in his head, even though they seemed accurate. 

"I forgot and just sat down somewhere." Dan tried not looking away, which he always did when he was lying. He could've said that it was Pj he didn't want to sit next to, but he didn't dare to bring up that subject. 

Phil on the other hand was first relieved, because his hypothesis turned out to be wrong, but then he doubted Dans words, like he always did.

 "Is that it?" he asked, analyzing the brown haired ones face. Looking for any proof that he was lying, but Phil didn't know Dan that well. He didn't know his habits, his gestures due to nervousness. How could he? He had just met him and that fact made him feel lost.

He knew that feeling too well.

It felt like losing your parents in a crowded place.

Like failing an exam you thought you succeeded in.

Like watching someone you love, leave.

But he wasn't stressed out, he wasn't disappointed in himself or heartbroken. He hadn't felt like he should've, he had felt nothing at all and lost described that feeling better than anything.

He had felt nothing when his mum forgot him in the mall once, he had felt nothing when he failed an important exam and he had felt nothing when his dad died.

It was two years ago and still felt like yesterday. It was still the same sky above them, the same white lies and the same so terribly lost son. 

His cause of death was late found cancer. But Phil found out even later, to be exact, the day his father was transferred to a hospital to die, five days before his father took his last breath and seven months after the diagnosis.

His family hadn't saved him from a agonizingly sad time, they had given him the ever lasting fear of lies. 

"You didn't want to sit next to me because I'm annoying, right?" he asked when Dan didn't answer. He could see the the other ones expression change into surprise.

"No, it's just -" Dan blurted, bringing up his hand to run his fingers through his hair, but his hand just hung down limp when all he wanted was to move his fingers. He forgot that he couldn't really move a bone in it, except if he was trying hard. But he wasn't. 

For a second Dan felt just angry about the fact that he was handicapped, a gimp, a useless retard.

But then he realized that Phil was standing right in front of him, watching the scenario, noticing Dans unusable hand, seeing him clenching his teeth - and he froze. 

"What is wrong with your hand?" Phil asked, not trying to be offensive and resisting the urge to take Dans hand in his to take a look himself.

"Nothing" Dan gritted and let that useless part of his body sink.

"Can't you move it?" Phils eyes were filled with sympathy, but that meant nothing to Dan, he didn't know what he had to go through, nobody did.

None of all those staring people with their pitiful smiles. None of the nurses, doctors or his family.

Only Dan knew the pain in his heart and he wrapped his useless fingers around it so tightly, that no one could ever take it from him.

"I can, ok? And if you want to know why I didn't sit next to you, ask Pj and Chris!" Phil could almost feel himself, how another crack in Dans so shattered heart appeared, when he blurted in hurt and anger. 

And Phil could've followed the limping boy easily, but he just didn't know him good enough to whisper soothing words into his ear. 

So he turned around and walked into the opposite direction, ignoring the eyes on him and the whispers swirling around in the air. That were so loud and demanding at that very moment. 

He knew they weren't staring at him because he was the boy who's father died, who didn't know that his father had cancer - they stared at him because Daniel Howell had yelled at him and Phil didn't understand. 

And his friends were sitting on the yellow bench, drinking some kind of energy drink and listening to other peoples rants, like they always did, since the day Phil had moved to the town.

But have they always sat on that bench during breaks? Have they always played video games on thursdays? 

Phil didn't know anything about the time before he came. He didn't know how Pj and Chris lives were pre his arrival.

He realized that it wasn't just the lies about Dan that they had kept from him, it was their story. 

Were they friends or strangers?

Phil could've asked why Dan didn't want to sit next to Pj, what the whole problem between those three was, but there were no thoughts left in his mind and he suddenly felt like on his first day of school.

 _Lost_.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The three boys were sitting cross-legged, with controllers in their hands, on the wooden floor in the yellow painted room.The dark clouds hung oppressively low, threatening rain, but no droplets ran down the window yet. It was already Thursday afternoon, which was better known as the weekly gaming day of Chris, Pj and Phil. Even though the black haired one wasn't in the mood to play, he agreed. 

But it was different than usual, not only due to the depressing weather. It was more silent and the air was filled with unspoken words, no one felt speaking out loud.

 Phils lips were shut, but questions were buzzing in his head, fogging his mind. He just couldn't focus on the tv, on the game he was playing, colorful images flashed before his eyes, but he was just staring into the void. His fingers brushed over the plastic buttons, he was was supposed to push. 

He didn't think about playing anymore, he was just asking himself over and over again;  _why?_

He knew they wouldn't lie to him if he'd confront them directly, but he didn't know if the wanted to hear it anymore. They had kept it from him for a reason, a reason he couldn't assume.

"Phil!" Pj yelled, elbowing the black haired boy to get his attention.

"Huh?" Phil was a little too deep in thoughts, jerking awake.  

"Why are you acting so weird lately?"

Lately meant the two days that had passed since Dan and Phil had talked to each other. There were just lowered heads, whenever their longing gazes met. Curious eyes on useless hands and apologizing smiles, briefly tugging on ones lips. 

"I don't know what you mean" he knew exactly what Pj meant.

It was weird that Phil took the crowded bus to school, instead of asking Pj to pick him up. It was weird that he didn't poke Pjs shoulder, in the huddle of Spanish words he couldn't understand and it was weird thathe hadn't asked about Dan _lately_.  

Pj licked his chapped lips, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. He feared the words that could possibly roll off Phil's tongue, he feared that Dan might've told him. Told him about the not so dirty secret, he was involved in. So his eyes darted between Phil and Chris, sweaty fingers curled around the controller in his lap. 

"Why didn't Dan want to sit next to you in history?" the demanding question was speckled with hesitation. 

A shaky breath escaped Pjs lips , drowned by the incongruous Mario Kart music in the background. 

Dan hadn't told Phil, but now it was his turn to answer. He didn't even know if he could. If those words could drip from his lips, like the rain from the clouds, now quietly dabbing against the windowpane and, for a while, he said nothing. But he felt Chis' and Phil's eyes stuck on him and the words fought against his clogged throat, "We were friends."

"Friends?" Phil repeated with wide eyes, none of the theories in his head were remotely close to what he'd just heard. 

"Best friends, like me and Pj" Chris stepped in for the seemingly struggling Pj.

There was no place for Phil in the word _best friend_ and he'd lie if he said that he didn't already know. 

"What happened?" he asked cautiously, grabbing the remote and lowering the volume of the annoyingly delightful music. 

"The accident, we didn't visit him" Pj glanced over to the window, avoiding the guilt that lingered in his words.

 "Why would you do that?" the oldest blurted. 

 _How could they do that to that lovely boy_ , he thought.

Pj ran his fingers though his thick and messy curls. He didn't know what to answer, he didn't know himself why they hadn't visited Dan.  

"It was complicated" Chris insisted, his voice monotone and his best friend agreed with a subtle nod. 

Phil rolled his pretty blue eyes at them, letting out a sigh in annoyance. He couldn't stand them lying, making pathetic excuses and _god_ , letting him feel like a third wheel again. 

"Could you tell the fucking truth for once?" he gushed, his hands gesturing wildly. He wasn't the kind of person that quickly got in rage, but he surely was about to turn into one.

 "I'm not lying! It was complicated!" Chris spat, squinting his eyes. 

"But you're making excuses around it as if I wasn't supposed to know!" he tried to suppress the burst of anger in his chest, like he always did. 

"Because you aren't! You don't know Dan, you don't know anything!" but Chris had never tried to hold it back.

"Chris" Pj glared at him with gritted teeth, begging.

But there was still the rage of yesterday in Chris' blood, the aggression that always boiled right under his skin "What the fuck do you want to hear Phil?"  

"Stop lying! Stop making excuses, it's not _for the better_!" Phil stood up, fighting the sting in his eyes, the sudden pain in his heart. "It's not for the better if you keep lying to me!"

A shocked silence filled the yellow painted room with Phils unsteady breathing and dripping rain being the only noise.

Pj and Chris just sat on the wooden floor and stared.  

"Phil, what's wrong?" the curly haired one furrowed his brows, his voice calm and quiet.

But in Phil's mind resounded his mothers words. _She cared_ , he thought, she cared so much about teaching her children to always tell the truth. But she was a hypocrite, with her selfish lies and artificial smiles. 

 They couldn't tell that their short but gravely argument could possibly end with Phil furiously wiping away the single tear that made its way down his cheeks. _Pretending_.

But lying was always connected to feeling lost, to his dad and salty tears.

 

"Nothing, I -" And Phil knew that they had no clue what was going on, so he just slumped onto his bed and wrapped his arms tightly around himself "I don't know." 

 "It's not just about Dan, right?" Pj assumed and maybe they did know each other, maybe they weren't just strangers.

 Phils gaze wandered over to the photos on the wall and lingered there for a second, until he lowered his head again to fiddle with his fingers.

Opening up about it felt wrong, like asking for pity when he so certainly didn't want it, but how could he not tell them if he just held a speech about telling the truth.

"My mum didn't tell me that my dad had cancer until he died" he stammered. 

Pj and Chris knew that his father was dead, but they didn't know the circumstances under which Phil found out about it. It was enough for him that they knew at all and that they were a little cautious when they came to that certain topic. So he always tried to spare the details. _"Oh I'm sorry"_ was something Phil had heard too many times.

"That's horrible" Chris pondered in disbelief, the anger in his green eyes died. "You didn't deserve that" Pj consoled softly. 

"It's fine, don't worry" he insisted, shooting a brief smile to the two boys. 

But they were worried, because now they had to open up as well. Pj internally debated if it was even fair to just expose Dan, if it wasn't his decision whether he wanted Phil to know or not.

It was a miracle that he hadn't known until now. The whole school kept talking about it and even if Pj tried to beat up everyone who just mentioned the brown haired boys name slightly, the rumors spread.

And after a year, when Phil transferred to their school, it was almost over. Nobody dared to say anything about the incident of 2017, but now, the rumors returned with Dan.  

They've waited for that day for 11 months, but when it suddenly came they weren't prepared - not at all.

Dan was Pjs best friend for more than 5 years, since the first day of middle school. Their friendship had survived hour long arguments, fighting and yelling, jealousy and anger. It survived long terms of not speaking to each other, but not that certain incident. An incident that should've bonded them even more.

 Whether it was visiting Dan in the hospital, helping him to recover or just calling sometimes, everything would've been better than nothing.

They didn't know why and they didn't want to hide behind stupid excuses, no justified reason existed for what they did or, in that case, didn't do.

Pj blamed himself for everything that happened - every single day. His heart was heavy with guilt, trying to escape through muffled sobs and whispered apologies every once in a while. And even if his parents or Chris told him that it wasn't his fault - he knew he could've prevented it.  

"He shot himself"


	5. Chapter 5

The words seemed to hit Phil’s mind like a pile of bricks, the shock of it all making the impact worse — as if the brick broke every single bonein his body.

His jaw clenched and his chest tightened with his eyebrows drawn together as he used every single neuron that circulated his brain to process what had just been said.

Confusion struck him dumbfounded. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he thought of words to say, deciding at the last minute to keep them on the tip of his tongue, not giving the words the satisfaction of escaping his lips and keeping them trapped inside his mouth in an endless torment of wanting to be said.

The image of Dan possibly in his bedroom, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath as he held the gun to his head, his eyes clenched shut, not wanting to face the reality that he thought was going to end. 

The sound of the gun cocking echoed in Phil’s head causing him to flinch.

The inhale that Dan acted as the tip of his finger moved around the trigger, a single choked out sob causing him to jolt forward slightly, leaning towards the body-length mirror as he sat on the floor.

And finally, the trigger pulled. The hammer snaps forward and a pin strikes the primer creating a spark, which ignites the gunpowder and the explosion propels the bullet out of the gun.

Only to find himself still alive and violently shaking in his breathing body. 

Phil’s eyes welled with tears but he pulled himself together as PJ still stood in front of him, awaiting a response in worry. 

“Sh-Shot himself?” The words finally escaped Phil with sadness wavering in him as his long, pale arms tightened around his body even more, as if to protect himself from the truth.

Pjs teeth ground over his trembling lips, when he heard the same question that he had stammered eleven months ago while holding onto his mobile with his dear life, resound in Phil's jittery voice. 

There was a pause and heavy drops blurred into one long, whirring background noise. Pj swallowed down the memories that crept up in his mind and nodded against the wish that he could just shake his head. 

 People kept telling Pj how lucky Dan was to survive, how rare it was to recover from such an injury. But they missed the point, they missed the fact that Dan had done that to himself, because he was so lonely and so hurt. He had tried to kill himself and he was still alive, Pj didn't even know if Dan considered himself lucky.

A cold shiver ran down his spine. It was a brutal realization, one that left him devastated but also guiltier than ever.

He didn't know why Dan did it, how he had felt and how he was feeling now, because Pj knew as much as the people at school, the strangers that had heard the rumors. People that had never seen Dan cry, never heard him burst into breathless laughter, never even heard his voice.   

Pj hadn't visited, hadn't talked and hadn't seen Dan for almost a year and knowing that the exact same boy used to be his best friends - was heart shattering.

 Pj knew that it was his own fault, no one was to blame and no one deserved to suffer more than him. He'd take all the weight off Dans shoulders, if he could, and carry it himself. He had made a decision he wasn't proud of, a decision he regretted almost as much as not calling Dan on May 22nd. But he couldn't go back in time or heal the gaping wounds in either of their hearts. 

"Is that why - ?" Phils halting and unfinished question dragged Pj out of the dark place he called his mind and made his gaze dart to the slouching boy on the blue sheeted bed.

He was talking about Dans limp and the useless left hand, that hung down his side lifelessly, but didn't dare to say that out loud. Maybe he just didn't want to say anything that could be remotely offensive or the thought of disabling your own body left him speechless. 

"I think so" Chris vacillated and shot an unsure glance to Pj. 

He surely used to be Dan's best friend as well, but just for a shorter amount of time. He had some courses with Pj in 9th grade, who thought of Chris as a problematic kid, that skipped school a little too often. He had always tried to distance himself from chaos and basically everything that could ruin his flawless reputation. 

His parents had tried to inculcate him to stay away from troublemakers, possible distraction from school and things he could get caught up in. They weren't as happy, when they met Chris after Pj got to know him and they still had their doubts.

But they loved Dan, the little boy with fluffy curls like their sons and a dimply grin, that made him look so gorgeous. They used to call Dan gorgeous a lot when they were kids and sometimes it made Pj a bit jealous. 

He'd asked Dan how got his dimples whenever they showed and the answer was always the same; "I have a bifid zygomaticus major muscle, which means that -" and Pj shushed the little nerds ramble every time.

You could never expect a shrug or a short answer from Dan, not even when he was just about eleven years old. He knew too much for his age and even if he'd never been cocky about it, it slightly annoyed Pj back then.

Dans father worked as a doctor and used to read him anatomy books to sleep instead of _The Very Hungry Caterpillar,_ which Pj knew by heart. But it wasn't like Dan didn't get to be a child, he was just an intelligent nerd from the beginning.

And Pj couldn't help but wonder sometimes, in the middle of the night, if Dan knew that the way he pointed the gun at himself wouldn't kill him. 

 

* * *

The air still smelled like rain and the evening had left thousands of thoughts in their mind, that had kept them awake for most of the night and distracted them the next day. And Phil texted Pj in the morning to pick him up and smiled at the two briefly, when the shock was still heavy on his chest, unspoken words and unanswered questions filling his lungs with suffocating silence.

But Phil didn't even try to assume anymore, everything he wanted to know was something he didn't want to hear. He didn't want to know how hurt the pretty boy must've felt, how lonely in the last hours of his seemingly ending life. What his lasts words to his mum were and if he had decided to leave a note on his neatly made bed.

His brain didn't want to fill the gaps and neither did Pj or Chris, who had left Phil's house after a few minutes of just blankly staring into the void - unsure if they felt regret or relief. 

_Maybe it was for the best_ , Phil thought.

Maybe it was better if he didn't know every little detail of something as horrifying as suicide, something no one ever dared to share details about. It wasn't something that could be mentioned in a basic conversation, something that didn't get along with absolute honesty.

Sadness relied on pretending. 

And Phil still hadn't processed what came out of Pjs brittle lips, the words, the meaning and the connection to Daniel Howell, a pretty boy with such sad eyes. Deep inside he desired to know everything about the brown haired boy he just met, but there was that line he didn't dare to cross this time.

It wasn't just about the privacy he didn't want to invade - because that hadn't bothered Phil once before, he just wouldn't bear  hearing those words in Dans deep and soft voice. It didn't make sense to him and he wasn't ready to understand. 

Everything felt a little different that day, but they still sat on the yellow bench and Phil listened to the rumors that suddenly seemed so loud and present, hearing the name Dan and suicide in the same sentence more than once, as if everyone _knew_ that he knew.

He probably just hadn't heard it before because he wasn't really interested in other peoples chatter, which was kind of paradox considering that Phil had the natural urge to know everything. But that only applied to everything that he wasn't supposed to know, that was actively kept from him, not pointless rumors he could listen to whenever he wanted.

But once again, he just assumed things, so he turned to Pj, who was equally absorbed by his own thoughts.

 "Why do they suddenly talk about Dan?" he propped his tilted head on his elbow and yawned, the lack of sleep creeping up on him.

"He wasn't interesting enough for a long time" Pj answered sighing, stretching his back "but now that he's back, the rumors slowly return as well and I can't beat up the whole school." A little smile tugged on his lips at the end of the sentence but didn't make full appearance.

 Phil had already figured that he'd only started fights with strangers, because he wanted to keep Dans secret. He was so used to protecting the brown haired boy, that it felt weird - even if he hadn't actually talked to him in months, to not stand by his side when he walked through the staring masses. 

 "Now I'll only beat the ones up that dare to talk shit" he gritted the last bit loudly and shot an annoyed glance at a group of 10th graders that had mentioned Dans name a little too often. But before anything could've happened, the bell rang and the three parted their ways.

They hardly had any courses together, so Phil walked to english alone, sometimes looking up from the tiled floor to see if Dan was anywhere near. The urge to properly apologize, for whatever happened three days ago, lingered in his mind and almost overtopped the circling thoughts of suicide and guns. 

He walked to the end of the room and opened one of the windows wide, gaining some annoyed looks from his already shivering classmates. But Phil hated the stifling air in already uncomfortable classrooms, it made him slightly claustrophobic and worsened the headaches he had every once in a while. He inhaled the cold air deeply and turned around to see Dan walking towards him with the same apologetic smile, that they've had on their lips whenever their paths had crossed in the halls.

"I'm sorry" his voice was as soft and sorrowful as his chocolate brown eyes, that vainly tried to lock with Phils melting blue. 

"For what?" the black haired boy asked, furrowing his brows. 

"For snapping at you on tuesday."

Phil could almost feel Dans loneliness just by looking at him. His slouching posture, the way he wrapped his arms around his trembling body and the puffy eyes that hinted sleepless and tearful nights. Did he always seem so sad? So desperate? Or did Phil only notice it because he knew how lonely and sad Dan must've been?

 "It's fine, don't worry about it" a tender smile curled up his lips, even though he knew that Dan wouldn't want his pity. He sat down and offered Dan the free seat next to his. 

"So we have history and english together?" the thought of not having to sit alone made his eyes flicker in excitement. 

"And chemistry and art" Dan added, brushing the brown fringe that hung over his eyes out of his pretty face.

"How do you know?" a suppressed chuckle escaped Phils lips.

 "I might or might not have asked the secretary so I could apologize to you" his usually pale skin was now rosy tinted in slight embarrassment and Phil resisted the urge to feel the heat on Dans cheeks, tingling in his fingers.

The strange feeling startled Phil and there was an uncomfortable pause until he shook his head and swallowed down whatever rose in his chest "You really didn't do anything to apologize for."

A brief smile tugged on Dans lips before he turned away from the black haired boy to get his binder. He reached for it in his bag, but stopped, staring at his lightly twitching fingers that couldn't get a grip.

_Wrong hand._

 Dan quickly used his right hand instead and ignored the upcoming thoughts and the boiling frustration in his lungs that made him want to scream. He was still not used to it, not even after months of trying and futilely physiotherapy. It wasn't the same hand he had learned writing with at the age of four, it wasn't the hand that had flicked through the pages of his dads books, it wasn't the hand that would ever lay in another one. His left hand didn't even feel like his own anymore, it was just another thing he hadn't control of. 

The never ending recovery, he so desperately wanted to give up on, made him at least able to walk and speak. Months of learning how to use his hand again had passed but his handwriting was still unreadable. It frustrated him endlessly, not just his left hand, but his almost equally useless leg.

 But he couldn't continue with letting his anger out on others, specifically not the ones he cared about. It wasn't their fault that he had pulled the trigger, he was the only one that deserved to get snapped at.

"And you didn't do anything that I could be mad about, you just asked about my stupid hand"

Phil looked up, his soft soft blue eyes speckled with sunny yellow met dull brown.

"I was too curious and you didn't want to talk about it, it was reasonable that you snapped at me" he assured with painful sympathy "and don't call your hand stupid."

Phil could hear the loathe in Dans words, the self-hate and it wrenched his heart and filled his mind with pity - pity he so dearly didn't want Dan to notice. He deserved more than that selfish feeling, even if Phil was truly hurt by the brown haired ones sorrow and would've done anything to make him feel a little happiness - pity costs nothing and ain't worth nothing.

Pity never wiped off a tear.

"It is though. I can barely move it, look" he put his elbow on the desk, trying to get his hand into a fist "it's useless and stupid and -"

His fingers began to twitch rapidly, but no actual movement happened.  His teeth clenched more with every passing second, the disappointment in himself stung in his eyes. It seemed so easy, it used to be - but now there was no control left.  

A cold hand wrapped itself around Dans, thumb gently pushing down his shaking fingers into a fist, stopping the spasm.  

"Hey" Phils worried voice soothed, looking at Dan, who regretted his action immediately "It's okay."

 It was so loud in the classroom and the whole situation felt so out of place, but that didn't matter in these seconds.

All that mattered was how desperate the brown haired boy in front of him was, how lonely and pretty and all these things that a boy wasn't supposed to be.

_Boys are not sad._   _Boys are not beautiful._  

But Dan was, he was so beautiful and so sad. So hopeless, so broken.

For these seconds it didn't matter that Phil held his hand.

It didn't matter that they were two boys, they were just two souls so _lost_ and _found_ at the same time. 

And Dan felt like crying, like completely breaking down and just sobbing into Phils shoulder. It felt like the blue eyed boy had the answers to _why_ and _how._ Like he could wrap his fingers around Dans broken heart and fix it with a gentle squeeze.

There was no "it'll get better", no "you just need to keep trying" or other empty promises.

It was okay and nothing else. 

And Dan would've broken down into sobs, if he hadn't been at school and if he wanted Phil to see him like the suicide attempting loser he was.

But he knew Phil just for five days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the beginning of this chapter was written by my wonderful friend Serena (@get-up-danny-boy on Tumblr) so leave some love for her in the comments


	6. Chapter 6

Phil still couldn't believe how Pj had managed to convince him to choose chemistry in first place.

 

He had failed it in the past years and he would definitely fail it this time as well.

There was literally no point in staying in the course, but Phil still walked into the classroom for the last period.

 

"This is the last time" he sighed.

"That's what you say every time, but then you're too lazy to ask the secretary to swap your courses" Pj chuckled, sitting down on his usual seat.

 

When Phil was about to sit down next to him, he noticed Dan sitting alone in the corner by himself. Some people stared at the brown haired boy, but no one dared to sit next to him.

 

Phil couldn't imagine how he must've felt, when all his classmates, former friends and best friends left him in his darkest time.

He must've felt alone before, but now he actually was.

 

"Sit next to him" Pj whispered, nudging Phils arm "I'm not gonna listen to your bullshit anyways."

Phil rolled his eyes with a light smile on his lips. He would've felt bad for just leaving Pj to go sit next to Dan.

 

He walked over to the table in the furthest corner, putting his hands on the wooden surface.

"May I sit here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dan looked up, glanced at Pj for less than a second and then moved his bag from the chair, with a light chuckle.

 

Phil sat down, putting a yellow, in doodles covered binder and a pen on the table. Even if chemistry wasn't the most boring course, it was certainly the one he couldn't participate in at all.

 

"I see you love chemistry" Dan smiled, pointing at a cat like creature.

"Who doesn't?" Phil joked, making big eyes in excitement.

"I actually like it."

"For real? I'm baffled."

"Yeah, I don’t know why, I'm just a nerd" he let out a soft laugh.

 

Phil couldn’t help himself but assume that Dan and Pj had chosen chemistry together as it was the favorite subject of both of them.

 

"Well I'm a nerd as well, but in a whole other dimension"

"You’re a video game nerd, I could tell the moment we first met" Dan scoffed jokingly.

"How?"

"You have the zelda triforce on your bag" his tone was ironically serious.

"Oh right, big giveaway" Phil laughed.

 

"Lester, Howell - shut it!" Mrs Meyer commanded.

 

They looked at each other for a second, suppressing a laugh, then stared at the blackboard, trying to follow the lesson.

 

Phil opened his binder, so he could make some notes. Just writing down whatever the teacher said, it didn’t make any sense to him anyways.

 

"Phil?" Dan whispered.

"Yeah" he didn’t take his eyes off the blackboard.

"Could you" he hesitated "could you send me your notes later?"

 

Phil turned around, eyeing the brown haired boy, who seemed even more wretched than usual.

He looked down at Dans notes, which were just illegible letters and words that could’ve been written by a five year old.

 

"You’re left handed" Phil concluded a little perplexed.

He nodded sheepishly.

"Mine aren’t really good, but sure, I'll send them to you."

"Thanks" Dan smiled, revealing a light dimple.

 

Phil turned back to his notes, trying to write everything important down clearly.

Trying to ignore the thoughts that rushed through his mind for a second.

 

But he felt bad for Dan. He felt pity for the boy next to him, staring at his hand, not able to write down anything.

 

And Dan felt dumb and useless.

He wouldn't be able to decipher anything he wrote, not even after months of training.

 

He felt as incompetent as when his recovery had started.

Being able to walk some steps without collapsing didn’t feel like a victory. Moving one finger at a time, when he used to be able to play difficult piano pieces, felt like failing the whole world.

 

And now, that he had to ask Phil to send him the notes he took, made him feel dumb.

Something so easy, something he could do his whole life, was now an obstacle.

Everything was.

 

He looked over at Pj.

He still had the brown curly hair, the piercing blue-green eyes and the same occupied look on his face during lessons.

But now, he was across the room and not right next to Dan.

 

He never understood what had happened.

 

If it was his or their fault. If they lost contact because of his suicide attempt or not. There was so much room for speculations due to the gap in his memories. Everything from two months before May 22nd was erased from his mind.

 

Dan couldn’t remember or understand what had happened between them.

 

But he missed his best friends more than being able to write, than walking, than basically anything.

* * *

"How was school?" His mother asked, opening him the car door.

"Okay" Dan mumbled, sitting down and putting the crutch between his legs.

"Did anything interesting happen?"

"No mum" he rolled his eyes at her and looked out the window.

 

His mum would only worry if he told her that he spent the breaks in the bathroom again and she would be too proud about the fact that he laughed with a new friend during english and Dan couldn't stand that exaggerated praise.

 

Even if he was almost enthusiastic himself about spending time with Phil, he couldn't stop thinking about how unreasonable his joy was.

 

There was nothing special about befriending people and talking to them, others did that everyday and the fact that Dan didn't, made him feel like abnormal.

 

And everything that seemed to be "a victory" or "a step forward", was in fact dull, so how could he be prideful about something that was regular for others?

 

"Dan" his mother repeated until he snapped out off his thoughts.

"Sorry I was just thinking about - homework"

"I thought you wouldn't have to do any?"

"Yeah" he mumbled, not paying any attention to what his mum just said.

 

He opened the door and stumbled out of the car, not waiting for his mother to help him and limped slowly across the street towards his house.

 

There was still the ramp leaning against the porch stairs, which he had needed when he was in a wheelchair, when his legs didn't work at all.

Now Dan could manage to walk, controlling at least one leg and he could climb stairs, but only a few steps.

 

That's why his bedroom was now on the first floor, where his dads office used to be - and because his parents didn't want him to sleep in the same room he almost died in.

 

"Do you want to eat? Dinners ready" his mother asked when they entered the house.

Dan shook his head, not hungry at all.

"I'm actually pretty tired."

"Okay get some rest, maybe later" his mother smiled fondly at him, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

"Yeah."

 

He headed to his bedroom, which was almost the same size as his old one, but painted in a warm yellow, supposedly to brighten his mood.

Most of the time it did the exact opposite though, because it didn't match Dans "aesthetics", as he told his dad the day he came home.

 

He laid the crutch on his desk and hobbled over to his dresser, trying not to fall by leaning against the wall.

He tried to walk by himself as much as possible at home, even though it was a lot more exhausting.

 

He grabbed a black pair of sweatpants, his white nasa cat shirt and closed the door so he could change.

 

"Dan!" his mum shouted immediately after and pushed the door open, causing the brown haired boy to fall.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, are you alright?"

"Yeah" he gritted, trying to stand up on his own but eventually took his mothers hand.

 

"I've told you not to close the door!"

"Mum I just wanted to get changed" he said, annoyed by his mums overprotective behavior.

"Do you need my help?"

"God, no, just leave and let me close the door for a second" he had his right hand against the wall for support.

"You'll open the door the second you're done" she demanded, closing the door.

 

Dan sighed, hopping over to his bed.

His mother didn't want him to ever close his door, even if he couldn't lock it.

 

The possibility that she might had to push it open again, finding blood splattered all over the floor and a gun next to her sons unconscious body, made her paranoid.

 

When she had heard the gunshot on the 22nd of May last year, she knew that it was her son. Even though it was in the middle of the night, even if he had seemed so normal the same day, she rushed to his room and banged against the wooden door, waking up her husband.

 

When she saw him laying there, she had immediately thought that he was dead, that there was no possibility that he could've survived. But the paramedics told her otherwise, doctors did after an hour long operation and after four months full of tears while he was asleep in a coma, even he did.

 

He had survived.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [trigger warning]

"could you send me your notes?"

 

Dans text message came fully out of the blue at noon on saturday.

There was no "hey", no "it's dan" - considering that Phil hadn't had his number before.

 

"Sure" he answered, jumping up from his bed and rushing to his bag. After a bit of searching he found and sent his almost embarrassingly bad notes, adding"They're bad sorry" afterwards.

 

He sat back down on his bed, leaning with his back against the headboard.

 

"your honesty is appreciated and you're forgiven"

 

Phil chuckled to himself, knowing about Dans usage of words even though he had just met him.

 

"Thanks would've been enough"

"thanks"

 

He stared at the display for a couple of seconds, thinking about something he could text to keep their conversation alive, but nothing came to his mind except for something as basic as "wyd".

 

"if you want to we could hang out today, it's ok if you'd rather not"

 

He was slightly baffled when he read Dans sheepish attempt to ask him if he wanted to come over. Why wouldn't he?

 

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked more as an answer than a question.

 

"idk"

"at mine?"

 

"Yeah, just send me your address and what time" Phil stood up again, walking upstairs so he could ask his mum to give him a ride if needed.

 

"anytime from now?"

 

There was that slight worry in Phils mind, that almost tempted him to ask if everything was alright, but he didn't, he would see him in a couple of minutes anyways.

 

"Ok, I'll be there in max 20 minutes"

 

Fortunately, Phil had already showered and just needed to put on fresh clothes.

"I'll be at a friends house" he shouted into the silent house, before putting on his shoes and closing the front door behind him.

 

Dan lived just a few blocks away, so he just walked over to him, passing Pjs and Chris' house on the way.

It was no coincidence that the three lived that close together, they probably met on their way to school, became friends and hung out together.

 

It was coincidence though that Phil happened to move into the same area.

 

He stopped in front of a white house, walked up the porch steps and wondered why there was still a ramp leaning against them when Dan was able to walk.

He rang the doorbell and waited awkwardly for it to open.

 

"Hey, you must be Phil, I'm Jackie" A tall woman with brown, curly hair said, smiling softly.

"Hello" Phil mumbled, running his fingers through his quiff, fixing some loose strands.

 

"Dan is in his room, the door is open" she said, seemingly in a rush.

"Thanks" the black haired boy nodded, walking into the pointed out direction.

 

Something about adults or strangers in general always made him feel more lost than usual. There was too much room for speculations, too many possible characteristics and dangers.

 

He knew that he didn't have to write a ten page essay about every person he met, but something in his head was certain that that was exactly what he needed.

 

"Hey" Dan greeted, sitting on a black framed bed with grey covers.

He looked different than usual, but it took Phil a second to realize that it was due to his hair.

 

"Your hair is curly!" he blurted.

"Yeah, I couldn't be bothered to straighten it today" Dan slurred lightly.

"It looks great"

 

"Thanks" he had a light smile on his lips, but other than that he seemed weak.

It might've been his posture or his slightly paler skin that gave it away, but something besides his hair was definitely off.

 

"You don't need to stand" he patted the spot besides him and chuckled, but his voice was fragile.

Phil took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, facing Dan.

 

"I like your room" his eyes wandered around, spotting one thing after the other.

 

Everything was black, modern and tidy, nothing really screamed that a 17 year old boy lived in here, except for a vitrine filled with a variety of video games and nerdy stuff.

There were some books, a laptop on a black desk, two different gaming consoles next to a big tv and a standing mirror.

 

And the walls were yellow.

 

"The yellow is awful" Dan scoffed.

"I like it, my walls are yellow as well"

"It might work in your room, with your aesthetics, but not here"

"My aesthetics?" Phil smirked, lifting his eyebrow.

 

He wouldn't say that he had a certain scheme going on, he wore and decorated his room like he wanted, not really paying attention to color.

 

"Ok let me guess, your rooms yellow, so you either have white or wooden furniture" he sat up a bit straighter, leaning against the headboard.

"Wooden."

"See? So I get from you a really nerdy vibe" Dan teased, his eyes scanning the black haired boy.

Phil tilted his head sneeringly.

 

"Ok no, you don't dress that nerdy, except for the glasses."

"I don't even wear -" he began, but Dan cut him off.

"Your contact lenses."

"How can you even see them?" Phil asked baffled.

"Well, my eyesight is outstanding" he grinned, leaning towards Phil, showing off two dimples.

 

But he immediately scooted back, when a sharp pain rushed through his head.

"Ow" he growled, pressing his right hand against his forehead.

 

A sudden foggy feeling overcame him, as if someone just rebooted his brain, painfully.

For a few seconds he was totally unaware of where and with who he was, until Phil gently laid a hand on each of his shoulders.

 

"Everything okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, just -" Dans words were indistinct and brittle "just a headache."

 

He opened his eyes slowly and Phil took off his hands again.

 

"Sorry, I don't feel so good today" he mumbled "I shouldn't have invited you over."

 

His parents usually took their turns in supervising Dan, but today they both had to go and leaving him home alone wasn't an opportunity yet. Not even after months.

 

So his mum asked him to either invite a friend over or staying with his grandparents for the weekend.

 

"What's wrong?" Phil asked, but regretted it immediately after.

He couldn't ask Dan about his own suicide attempt and he couldn't hear about it either.

 

Dan looked up, meeting Phils nervous eyes.

 

"I had an accident" he began, biting his lip "Actually, no, I've tried -"

"I know" Phil said quietly, stopping him from saying it out loud.

"I thought you didn't" a nauseous feeling grew in his chest.

 

"I didn't until Pj and Chris told me on thursday. I shouldn't have asked them, I should've asked you" Phil admitted heedfully.

 

Dans gaze fell, ignoring his aching head and heart.

 

"Are you here because you pity me?" his voice was frail and hesitant.

"No" Phil stammered "no, of course not."

 

"Everyone only looks at me just because of that, if they talk to me then just because they want to ask why or how" he blurted, running his right hand through his curls.

 

"Nobody likes me for who I am! Nobody even likes me! It's just pity they have to make themselves feel better, to turn around and think what a great person they are!"

 

"I'm sorry."

"No!" Dan snapped, his lips trembling "Don't apologize for something that I did, that I did to myself!"

 

His words were heart shattering, even for Phil who dreaded feeling lost almost as much as feeling anything besides that.

 

"I'm sorry that you had to do it to yourself"

 

And Dan couldn't keep it in, couldn't hold together what was broken already. He fought the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, he couldn't cry, not in front of Phil.

 

Don't break.

 

He held his breath, but nothing could prevent him from tearing apart.

 

Not even Phil, who tried to soothe the pain that was so clearly written in the Dans eyes by pulling him into his arms.

 

He wasn't good with emotions, wasn't the first one to ask for comfort or sympathy. Phil wasn't cold hearted, but how could he alleviate ones pain, if he couldn't even face his own.

 

But he wrapped his arms around Dans neck, when a lonely tear traced down his cheek, soon to be followed by another one - until a steady stream of salty tears flowed down the curly haired ones pale skin, releasing the sadness and sorrow that has been held inside of him for years. But still he did not make a sound, his tears screamed loud enough.

 

"You deserve more than pity" Phil assured "You deserve so much more than this."

 

"Sorry" Dan sniffled, wiping away the wet stains on his cheeks.

"It's okay."

"Now I've made it awkward between us" he said regretfully.

"No" Phil chuckled softly "We can go right back to your outstanding eyesight."

Dan rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips sliding upwards.

 

"You can talk to me though, you can talk about it if you want" the black haired boy stated, not ready to just shove the past minutes aside.

"Thanks, really, but I think it's enough for today" he said, leaning back against the headboard.

 

"Yeah we still need to figure out my aesthetics."

"You're an artsy hoe."

"Hey!" Phil pouted "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Yellow walls, wooden furniture and, let me guess, a variety of plants and especially cactuses" he simpered.

"The plural is cacti."

 

Dan chuckled in disbelief, tilting his head.

 

"I won't discuss that with you, do you have an english degree or what?"

"No, but a variety of cacti on my window sill" Phil teased triumphantly.

"You're so predictable artsy hoe lester" he scoffed.

 

"I can't even draw a tree, how am i artsy?"

"Fine with me if you identify as just a hoe" he shrugged, grinning dimply.

 

"Oh shut up you wannabe edgelord."

"How do you know my dearest secret?" Dan marveled, laying his right hand on his heart.

"You're just as predictable as I am" Phil smirked, sticking out his tongue, which made them both burst into laughter.

 

"What was that?" Dan laughed, shaking his head "don't ever do that again."

"I won't, I swear."

 

"Is your headache getting better?" Phil asked after silence had filled the room.

"Not really, I just try to ignore it. I have it every once in a while, making me unable to walk, speak or remember stuff."

"What is it today?"

"Walking. I don't know how exactly the science behind it works, but some of my neurons just shut down for a few hours sometimes" he sighed, smiling ironically.

 

"Like a transient ischemic attack?"

"Yeah kinda, you nerd" Dan joked.

"Does it happen a lot?"

"Not really, but I could always have an attack during school, so if I ever just vanish, you'll know why."

"Oh“ Phil gasped "thats why you left on monday."

"No, that was actually because of Pj and Chris. I didn’t know how to handle the situation"

 

Dan was hesitant when it came to his former best friends, it wasn’t something he could just talk about, but talking to Phil seemed so familiar, that their names just slipped.

 

But the black haired boy could make out the discomfort and regret in Dans tone and immediately changed the subject.

 

It was weird, Phil thought to himself.

He'd never had as many questions for anyone as he had for Dan. He never wanted to know more about a person than about him, but he also never cared about a persons feelings and comfort as much.

 

He didn’t feel left out with Dan, he almost felt too involved.

 


End file.
